


Of Love and Duty

by RocknVaughn



Series: After the Madness [2]
Category: The Living and the Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknVaughn/pseuds/RocknVaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas Day 1894.</p><p>At Charlotte's request, Nathan tells her the cautionary tale of his first wife Olivia and their less-than-idyllic marriage. As a result, Charlotte finally begins to understand the underlying factors that drew Nathan to her and why he cherishes the unique bond they share so much.</p><p>This is my personal headcanon for why Nathan never mentions his first wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Love and Duty

~O~

The frost that coated the once-green grass crunched beneath Nathan’s feet as he knelt by his mother’s gravestone and laid the offering of evergreen boughs and holly at its base.

“Happy Christmas, Mother,” he said, laying a hand across her name on the cold stone. He closed his eyes, said a small prayer, and then moved to another, older grave.

He turned toward Charlotte—whom he’d personally bundled up in a thick woolen coat, scarf, and gloves to make sure she’d stay warm—and she handed him another Yule bouquet. Again, Nathan knelt on the cold, hard ground and placed the greenery down in front of him. He took off his leather glove and laid his bare palm against a name etched into the stone. “Happy Christmas, Gabriel,” he said softly, his voice still filled with the pain of his loss, although the past few weeks had done much to help Nathan heal that long-open wound. “I hope you are now happy and at peace. I love and miss you, my dear son, and I always will.”

As Nathan bowed his head in prayer, he felt Charlotte’s hand upon his shoulder, lending him strength in his sadness. Even after three and a half years of marriage, it still amazed him how she just _knew_ when he was most in need of her emotional support and how she gave it to him openly and wholeheartedly. He laid his own hand upon hers and glanced up at her with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Charlotte,” he said, patting her hand so that she would know to remove it as he stood back up. After he brushed a bit of dirt from his trouser leg, he put on his hat and his missing glove and held out his arm for Charlotte to hold.

“I’m fine, Nathan, really,” Charlotte protested.

“The footing is a bit slick with the frost this morning,” Nathan replied with a mock-scolding look. “And I know that getting around has been a bit unwieldy for you of late.”

“I’m pregnant, Nathan, not an invalid.”

“One can never be too careful,” Nathan replied, looking from her to his outstretched arm pointedly. Charlotte sighed heavily, but still threaded her arm through his when he refused to move until she did so.

“Honestly,” Charlotte complained, but still snuggled close to his side as Nathan set a leisurely pace for them.

“Is it so wrong of me that I want the two of you to stay safe?” he asked mildly as he laid his other hand on top of hers.

“Of course not,” Charlotte admitted softly. “I’m just used to being more independent, I guess.”

“And you will be again,” Nathan assured her. “As soon as the baby is born and you’ve recovered from the birthing.”

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s just frustrating to not be able to do all the things you used to do…like tie one’s own shoes, for example.”

Nathan lifted Charlotte’s gloved hand from his sleeve and kissed it before tucking it safely back into the crook of his elbow. “Well I, for one, don’t mind that a bit. It means I get to fondle your shapely ankles every morning.”

“Not very shapely these days, I’d imagine,” Charlotte replied ruefully.

“Nonsense. They are just as lovely as ever.”

Despite herself, Charlotte smiled. “I fear you are entirely biased.”

“Biased about ankles? A strange thing to be biased about.”

She used her free hand to lightly smack him on the arm. “Nathan,” she scolded, “You are being deliberately obtuse.”

Nathan feigned surprise. “Oh, you meant about _you_! Well, of course, I’m going to be biased about _you_. Love is blind, and all that.”

The saucy wink he gave her distracted Charlotte enough that she stumbled as they crossed onto the flagstones of the drive. She would indeed have fallen had Nathan not moved swiftly to steady her.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly, her heart pounding in her ears from the near miss.

“Hence why I insisted upon guiding you back,” Nathan said as he handed her across the threshold into the house.

“You’re going to be insufferable about this now, aren’t you?” Charlotte complained as she unwound the scarf from around her neck and set it aside.

Nathan removed his gloves and hat and set it on the side counter next to Charlotte’s scarf before removing his coat. “I wouldn’t call it _insufferable_ …”

“Well, I would,” Charlotte insisted, shedding the rest of her outdoor gear and then sighing when Nathan removed them from her hands before she could put them away herself. “I can do that!” she insisted loudly, even as he walked away from her to stow them in the coat cupboard.

“I know you can,” Nathan replied, returning to her and pecking a kiss to her chilled cheek, “but I was going that way anyway to hang up my own things.”

“Likely story,” Charlotte muttered under her breath as she brushed past him into the sitting room and practically threw herself into the armchair closest to the fire.

Nathan knew better than to reply. Charlotte had always been a bit hot-tempered, but of late, even the smallest things had been known to set her off. He supposed that if he were large enough to not be able to see his own toes, he might be a bit on edge, too.

Instead, he called out for Gwen, who came presently. “Yes, Mr. Appleby?”

“Would you please warm up some drinking chocolate for Mrs. Appleby?”

“Of course, Sir,” she said with a small curtsy and a knowing smile.

Nathan turned away from Charlotte and returned the smile. “Thank you, Gwen.”

Drinking chocolate had become a great favourite of Charlotte’s since she'd been with child, and Nathan was happy to indulge her craving, especially once he realised how much the beverage seemed to improve her mood when frustration made her grumpy.

Turning, Nathan grabbed one of the side pillows from the sofa and began to fluff it up.

Charlotte rolled her eyes as she watched him approach, cushion in hand. “Nathan…”

“Now, now,” Nathan tutted as he raised an eyebrow in challenge, “your back will thank you for it later.”

It was clear from the look on her face that Charlotte was considering refusal of the pillow just to be obstinate, but logic and reason won out in the end. “Very well,” she said with an impatient sigh and slid forward in the chair so that Nathan could tuck the pillow behind her.

“Your mother was right about you,” Charlotte accused as Nathan, looking inordinately pleased with himself, settled into the other armchair across from her.

“I suspect she was right about a great many things,” he replied, unruffled by her waspish tone. “To what specifically do you refer?”

Charlotte harrumphed. “Your tendency to mollycoddle the Mistress of the house.”

Luckily, Nathan was saved from releasing an incredibly ill-advised bark of laughter by the return of Gwen, who was carrying two steaming mugs.

“Here you go, Mr. Appleby,” Gwen said, proffering a crockery tankard. “Thought you might be a bit chilled yourself, Sir. Nippy out there this morning, it is.”

“Thank you, Gwen,” Nathan replied, relieving Gwen of the tankard and sipping at the steaming beverage cautiously.

“And for the Mistress, a bit of brandy tucked into that one, there is,” Gwen murmured as she handed Charlotte her mug with a wink. “Help ye warm up a bit faster, I’d say.”

“I suspect it will,” Charlotte admitted with a friendly smile directed at Gwen. “Thank you.”

Gwen responded with a short curtsey. “No trouble at-all, Ma’am.”

As Charlotte eagerly drank her chocolate, Gwen moved to place another log on the fire. Nathan set his cup aside, putting out a staying hand even as he stood. “No, no. I’ll get that, Gwen. Thank you.”

Gwen looked up at him in surprise, but nodded when her eyes met his pleasant smile. “Of course, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“No thanks needed, Gwen. It’s about time I start pulling my weight around this place, don’t you think?”

Gwen stepped aside as Nathan knelt to add wood to the fire. “As you say, Sir. I’d best be checking on the Christmas dinner, then.” She dipped a quick curtsey and hurried from the room.

“Nathan,” Charlotte scolded with a smile, the spiked drinking chocolate already working its magic on her mood, “you shouldn’t put poor Gwen on the spot like that!”

“It’s naught more than the truth,” Nathan admitted honestly. Rather than getting up to sit back in the other chair, he scooted back on the rug, leaned against the side of Charlotte’s seat, toed off his shoes, and stretched his long legs out in front of the fire. “You’ve been doing the lion’s share of the work on this farm since we got here, Charlotte, and everyone knows it. Especially me.”

“Well, to be fair,” she said as she threaded the fingers of her left hand through Nathan’s hair, “you had plenty else to be going on with.”

“That’s hardly an excuse.”

“No, I suppose it’s not. But you could not possibly have anticipated what awaited us here at Shepzoy for you to deal with.”

Nathan hummed noncommittally, leant his head back against Charlotte’s leg, and closed his eyes with a blissful sigh.

Charlotte massaged Nathan’s scalp over and over as the fire crackled merrily before them. After some time had passed and Nathan hadn’t moved, she asked him, “Have you fallen asleep on me?”

“Yes,” Nathan teased, though his voice—low and slow like molasses—indicated that he might indeed have been headed in that direction.

“Layabout,” Charlotte said fondly, nudging at him with her knee.

Nathan tilted his head back, lifted an arm to stroke at Charlotte’s cheek, and smiled. “Happy Christmas, Dearest.”

“Happy Christmas to you, too. I would bend over to kiss you, were I able. But as it is, this will have to do.” Charlotte grasped Nathan’s hand by the wrist and turned her face into its palm to whisper her lips upon it.

“We’ll have to fix that, then.” Nathan rose to his knees and turned toward Charlotte so he could kiss her properly. After several breathless moments, he pulled back to lean his forehead against hers. “Much better,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to the tip of Charlotte’s cold nose. He caressed the swell of her belly and said, “Our last Christmas alone.”

Charlotte shook her head in the negative. “We’re hardly what I would consider alone,” she corrected with a laugh as she felt their baby squirm inside of her. “I feel as if she never stops moving!”

“Now, now,” Nathan said to the babe as he pressed his face against Charlotte’s womb. “Give your poor Mum a bit of a rest, would you?”

As if in response, Nathan felt the lightest of pressures against his cheek. Wide-eyed, he looked up at Charlotte in awe. “Did she just—?”

With an ear-to-ear grin, Charlotte nodded. She reached down and captured one of his hands, placing it over a spot on the right side of her belly. “Speak to her again, Nathan, and let’s see what she does.”

Again, Nathan put his lips next to Charlotte’s stomach and spoke. “Happy Christmas, Little One. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

This time, the movement Nathan felt against his hand was unmistakable. He shook his head in wonder.

“She’s responding to your voice,” Charlotte exclaimed excitedly, pressing her hand on top of his as another motion fluttered against Nathan’s palm. “She must recognise you!”

“Do you think?” Nathan breathed, his eyes glittering with the shine of happy tears.

“Of course!” Charlotte confirmed. “You’re her father. Why shouldn’t she?”

“I…don’t know,” Nathan said awkwardly, not meeting Charlotte’s eyes.

Charlotte watched Nathan’s face closely as he gasped when yet again as the baby moved beneath his hand. His shocked and surprised reaction hardly made sense to her. After all, he’d been through all of this before with Gabriel…hadn’t he?

“Nathan?” Charlotte said, studying the bemused smile that quirked the edges of his mouth as he watched a small lump of foot or elbow distend the otherwise smooth roundness of her stomach.

“Yes?” Nathan replied distractedly, his eyes never shifting from the squirming movement.

“Was…” Charlotte hesitated, not knowing quite how to approach her husband with her suspicions, “…Gabriel not as active a child, then?”

Nathan’s brow furrowed and his lips formed a thin line. “I don’t know.”

When he didn’t continue, Charlotte said quietly, “I’ve always wondered why you never speak of her.”

“Never speak of whom?” Nathan asked, looking up at his wife, confused.

“Olivia.” Charlotte couldn’t help but notice the way Nathan’s body tensed at the sound of his first wife’s name. “Is it just that her loss is too painful?” she asked, smoothing his curls away from his face to see his eyes better. They were bleak and empty in a way that Charlotte had never seen.

Nathan’s shoulders slumped as he sat cross-legged on the hearth rug and held his head between his hands.

When several moments went by and he didn’t reply, Charlotte prompted, “Nathan?”

“Yes, it is,” he said at last, and the weight and heaviness of that one word spoke volumes, “but not in the way that you mean.”

Charlotte cocked her head to the side in question, but waited patiently for Nathan to continue.

“I mean, I grieved for her loss after Gabriel’s birth—of course I did—but more than anything, I grieved for all the things that we never had.”

“What do you mean?”

“Olivia and I…we were…it was…” Nathan looked up at Charlotte with soulful eyes, “an arranged marriage.”

“ _What?_ ” Charlotte gasped in shock.

“It was the way of things, Charlotte; at least at Shepzoy it was. It had been that way for generations. As heir to the estate, it was expected of me to bring new income to the farm by marrying well. Olivia had been chosen for me by my father when I was nigh on sixteen.”

“And you had no say in it whatsoever?” Charlotte demanded, outraged at Nathan’s father for forcing such a thing upon his son.

“At the time, I didn’t think to question it,” Nathan admitted. “My parents seemed happy enough, after all, and their marriage was arranged.”

Charlotte leaned forward and caressed the Nathan’s cheek. “I take it that was not the case with you and Olivia.”

Nathan shook his head. “When we married, we hardly knew each other. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.”

Charlotte frowned. “That does not sound like a recipe for marital bliss.”

“Please do not misunderstand me. Olivia was not a bad person; far from it, in fact. When I first met her, she was soft spoken, sweet, and kind. What I did know of her, I liked very much. It was why I agreed to marry her.”

“But…” Charlotte prompted.

Nathan sighed heavily. “But… she was also raised quite differently than you or I, in ways I could not have foreseen. For example, it was her belief that the only time husbands and wives should spend together was at the dinner table or in the marriage bed…and only then to procreate. Otherwise, they led rather separate lives.”

“Oh, Nathan…”

“At first, randy young buck that I was, it didn’t bother me overmuch. But for someone sharing their life with another, it became a rather lonely existence. And after a while, her “Lie back and think of England” approach to our relations started to wear on me.”

“I can’t imagine it was very confidence boosting.”

“No, it was not,” Nathan agreed. “Still, Olivia was shy…painfully so at times. I think I had chalked up her lack of response to that. Perhaps, with time and patience, we might have been able to move beyond that obstacle and come to a clearer understanding, had it not been for our other issue.”

“And what was that?”

“Olivia was a country girl through and through. I’m sure she thought that’s where she would remain by marrying a farmer’s son. But, alas, I had no interest in or patience for a farmer’s life. My studies and my work inevitably drew me to London. She never spoke ill of my choice to move us there, but in retrospect, it was very clear that she was unhappy with our life in the city. The conjugal visits she would allow became more and more infrequent and those we did have were perfunctory at best.”

“By the time she became with child several months into our marriage, it was frankly a blessing for both of us not to be forced into more awkward encounters.”

“My poor dear…” Charlotte crooned as she stroked Nathan’s cheek tenderly with her thumb.

Nathan leaned into her touch and sighed. “From that point on, we kept separate bedrooms. She was the perfect hostess when there was company, of course, but in private, we hardly saw one another.”

“Was there nothing you could do to breach the space between you?”

“I confess that by that time we’d come to such an impasse that I’d stopped trying. Instead, I threw myself into my work and prayed that once the baby was born, the living bond between us might work some magic upon our troubled marriage. ”

“But clearly, that was not to be. We were so distant with one another by the time her confinement ended that Olivia did not even bother to have me sent for when she went into labour. I arrived home from work one day to discover I had a new son and a dead wife.”

Charlotte put a hand over her mouth as she gasped.

“I am ashamed to say that a part of me felt relieved that she was gone. Yet, despite everything, I cannot help but feel that I failed her, too.”

“You take too much upon yourself,” Charlotte protested. “You were both so very young and it was a difficult situation at best.”

“Intellectually, I know that, but emotionally…” Nathan’s voice trailed off as he blinked back tears.

Charlotte opened her arms to him. “Come here, Nathan.”

He moved forward and laid his head upon her lap, burrowing his face into her stomach as she stroked the side of Nathan’s face and petted his hair. “You dear, dear, man. You have already been through so much sadness, haven’t you?”

Though he did not answer, Nathan all but melted into her embrace, the tenseness in his back and shoulders draining away under her touch.

“I’d often wondered what you saw in me,” Charlotte mused whilst tracing a damp track left on Nathan’s cheek, “what attracted you to me despite my rather radical lifestyle.”

“ _Not_ radical…just different,” Nathan protested, though his vehemence was lost a bit in translation by the words being muffled against Charlotte’s belly.

“Says you, but I believe that my father despaired of my ever getting married.”

Nathan lifted up his head and smiled. “Hence your rather generous dowry,” he teased.

“And why he so readily approved of you,” Charlotte joked back.

Nathan’s face sobered as he confessed, “Though I would have married you even if you’d been penniless.”

Charlotte blushed and fumbled for a reply, but Nathan continued before she could. “You’ve wondered why I fell in love with you?” He got to his knees and then cradled her face between both his hands. “Indeed, I defy anyone who has met you to refrain from it! You’ve always been so full of life; bright and vibrant and charming and funny. One smile from you could drag me out of my darkest mood, my deepest melancholy. You’re fiery, passionate, and kind. And when you give yourself over to something—or someone—you do so with all your heart and soul.”

“Your unconditional love and support have been a balm for my wounds and a panacea for my pain. You were everything I’d ever dreamt of in a wife—in a partner—and so much more. I never imagined that I could ever be this happy. I’m not sure how I got to be the lucky sod that ended up married to you, but I am so, so grateful that I did.”

In response, Charlotte burst into tears.

Alarmed, Nathan gathered her into his arms. “Charlotte! Whatever is the matter?” he exclaimed, pulling her against him and rubbing soothing circles onto her back.

“Don’t you know that it’s not nice to make a pregnant woman cry?” she sobbed against his waistcoat.

Nathan smiled gently. “Even if it’s happy crying?” he asked, trying to dry her tears with his thumbs.

“ _Especially_ if it’s happy crying,” Charlotte insisted, and buried her face in the side of her husband’s neck.

Nathan kissed the top of her head. “So instead, I should endeavour to make you miserable? No, no; that won’t do at all. I’ve already done enough of that for a lifetime. No, I’m afraid you will just have to soldier on with me loving you besottedly and spoiling you rotten.”

Charlotte glanced up at him and gave him a tiny smile, her face still tear-stained and blotchy. “If you insist, then I guess I must,” she replied with a heavy sigh.

“I absolutely insist.”

Nathan wiped the remainder of moisture from Charlotte’s cheeks and then pulled her close so she could rest her head upon his shoulder.

After a long, quiet embrace, Charlotte murmured, “So you really haven’t experienced any of this before, have you?”

“Any of what?”

“All the little things that go along with being an expectant father.”

“No, not really,” Nathan admitted.

“Is _that_ why you’re always trying to mollycoddle me?”

Nathan chuckled. “I’d never really thought about it, but that’s quite probable.”

“Well then,” Charlotte said, pulling back to look him in the eye, “I suppose I can give you leave to spoil me this time— _a bit_ —but only with the first child, mind! After that, if you dare try it, you shall get a very severe scolding.”

Nathan pressed a kiss to Charlotte’s forehead. “I shall consider myself forewarned.”

“See that you do!” Charlotte nodded toward the chair that Nathan had vacated. “Your chocolate is getting cold.”

“Most likely,” Nathan replied. He didn’t consider it a great loss, as it wasn’t as great a favourite to him as it was to his wife. He gave her a knowing glance. “Why…did you want it?”

An embarrassed blush tinted Charlotte’s cheeks. “No,” she denied. “I just don’t think it should go to waste.”

“Heaven forbid!” Nathan knee-walked the five feet to the side table and retrieved his mug. “Here,” he said, returning to her side and pressing the tankard into Charlotte’s hands, “why don’t you finish mine?”

Charlotte looked at the lukewarm beverage with longing, but demurred, “I really shouldn’t.”

“Nonsense.”

Charlotte took a sip and looked coyly at Nathan from beneath her lashes. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“You _know_ what.”

“I seem to recall you giving me permission.”

Charlotte released a put-upon sigh and admitted, “Yes, I guess I did.”

“Well then…” Nathan said and stood up suddenly, rubbing his hands together with childish glee.

Charlotte set his now-empty mug down next to her own. “Nathan Appleby, what are you up to?”

“You’ll see,” he said cryptically and then crossed to the sofa and started removing its seat cushions.

“Nathan!” Charlotte exclaimed, but he paid her no mind. Instead, the laid the cushions upon the floor a close but safe distance from the fireplace and then paused to add more wood to the fire. After arranging the logs with the poker to his satisfaction, he stood up, set the poker back in its holder, and brushed the ash from his palms.

He grasped both of Charlotte’s hands and said, “Up you get, my dear.”

“What exactly are you doing?” she asked again as he gently pulled her upright.

“Remember that first Christmas after we married? How after dinner we lay down on that thick rug in the sitting room and just watched the flames and talked?”

“That wasn’t _all_ we did in front of that fire…”

“True,” Nathan admitted, “but you’re missing the point.”

Charlotte looked from the nest of cushions he’d created to Nathan’s face and back again. “You can’t honestly expect me to get down on the floor _now_ , do you? In my current state, I’d never be able to get back up again!”

Nathan pressed a kiss to the back of each of Charlotte’s hands. “Then I shall help you,” he promised.

“I don’t know, Nathan...”

“It’ll be worth your while...”

“How? And don’t say more drinking chocolate.”

“Definitely not. Please?”

Charlotte shook her head even as she relented under his pleading look. “Oh, all right.”

Between the two of them, they were able to get Charlotte into a sitting position on the cushions. Nathan grabbed the pillow that he had wedged behind Charlotte’s back earlier and set it at the top end of the makeshift pallet. Then, he helped her to lie on her side facing the fire. He slipped one arm beneath the pillow under her head and the other across her stomach and snuggled in behind her carefully. Once settled, he tucked his chin over her shoulder from behind and cradled her against him, rubbing soft, soothing patterns over her belly.

Charlotte sank into the cushions and leant back against Nathan with a dreamy sigh. “This is lovely,” she breathed.

“Yes, it is,” Nathan agreed, ghosting his nose along Charlotte’s jawline and then chuckling as he felt the baby kick against his hand.

“Really quite comfortable,” she admitted drowsily after a few minutes.

“Mhmmm,” Nathan hummed in sleepy agreement. “Love you...” His voice trailed off mid-sentence.

Charlotte picked up Nathan’s hand and kissed it. “Love you, too,” she whispered in reply.

~O~

When Gwen returned to the sitting room an hour later to announce that dinner was ready, she discovered the pair of them cuddled together in front of the fire fast asleep. Pleased to see the Master and Mistress so emotionally close again, it was with a fond smile that she retrieved the afghan from the back of the settee, draped it over them, and then carefully tucked them in.

She hummed a happy tune as she closed the door behind her. _After all_ , Gwen thought charitably as she headed back to the kitchen, _love is more important than food._ _Dinner can wait._

 


End file.
